Being the smallest crewmember on board had its advantages, Shalina felt. One of them was that only she could access the foremost part of the cargo hold, where a careful manipulation of cargo stacking had created a small space she called her home away from home. It was big enough for a bedroll and a conjuring circle, and a small box served as a table for a candle, and in one corner was a stack of books.
On a ship the size of the one she was on, and with a crew as disorganised, it was an easy feat for someone of her talents to disappear, and being the furthest away it was possible to be from the captain, Shalina felt quite safe here. No british officer would dream of going this far forward on the ship, and certainly not this far below decks, so in her opinion, below the waterline was the place to be.
Here she could take off her head covering, light a candle and relax with a book and a snack.
And meanwhile, on the bridge, the captain bellowed, demanding to know where his sandwich had gone.